


The Pros and Cons of Being a God (and weighing like 500 pounds)

by zimriya



Series: The 500 lbs Verse [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: I have a terrible sense of humor guys, Jötunn Loki, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sexual Content, Somewhat, and by minor I mean not really important, terrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 15:50:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimriya/pseuds/zimriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The problem with being the God of Mischief (and weighing like 500 pounds) is that no one else does. This becomes particularly problematic when beds are involved.</p><p>Or that fic where Loki keeps killing all of his bed partners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pros and Cons of Being a God (and weighing like 500 pounds)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr [here](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/39947727484/30-days-otp-nsfw-challenge-day-3) for the 30 days challenge. The prompt was first time, I think? Yes, my sense of humor is terrible.
> 
> betaed by the lovely [alloftheheartstringspulled](http://alloftheheartstringspulled.tumblr.com/). All grammatical mistakes are my own.

**The Pros and Cons of Being a God (and weighing like 500 pounds)**

\--

It’s not something he’s particularly proud of, taking pleasure from the mortals, but every now and then even Loki will admit to having use for the wonderfully freeing after effects of being fucked into a mattress. Or fucking someone into a mattress. He really has no preference for one or the other seeing as it’s less about the mechanics and more about the after, but he rather enjoys basking in the haze of white nothingness. It’s a welcome reprieve to the hum of anger that has been his constant companion of late.

Though, now that he thinks about it, the mortal really has been quiet for far too long. Not that Loki has any sort of gauge on this sort of thing, having grown up surrounded as he was by Thor, but at the very least he’d expected a compliment. Or at least some sort of shocked awe. That seemed to be the usual response, ridiculous as it seems to Loki; as if it was news to _him_ ; as if Loki would deign to share his bed with a mortal for anything _less_ than amazing.

So when the man doesn’t so much as breathe a word, Loki finds himself sighing, rolling his eyes, and turning his head to the left. And, well.

There really is no need to try to remember the mortal’s name anyway, half crushed as he is in death, and Loki magic’s himself away from the body, more than a little peeved.

“This is becoming a problem,” he says when he reforms, fully clothed, in the room he’s been staying in. This is, sadly, quite the understatement.

\--

He makes it two months and ten more bed partners before he caves and calls Thor. It’s not that Loki has any qualms about killing people, and certainly death by sex is a much better way to go than any of the countless other things he’s done, but it’s getting to the point where it’s hindering his own sexual release. He knows, grudgingly, that it was inevitable anyway. There was no way he was going to be satisfied with one round for very long; he was, after all, a god. But it still stings, somewhat, to wake up not only half hard and incredibly horny but also to find that one has somehow crushed one’s bed partner in the night.

Tying him down has little to no effect, bondage ends rather abruptly when it turns out his natural response to asphyxiation is to put his hand through his partners rib-cage, and the number of broken bed and bodies gets to be noticeable.

So he calls Thor.

Thor is less than pleased when he picks up the phone. “Brother,” he says, sounding hesitant and confused and half raspy from sleep. Loki can’t tell if he’s upset that it’s _Loki_ calling him or that it’s two in the morning.

“Thor,” he manages. He shifts a little on the bed so that he’s sitting, and flicks the lamp on with a wave of his fingers.

“Is there something you needed?” Thor says finally.

Loki tilts his head to regard his latest conquest, who had the decency to go with quite a look of rapture on her face, and sighs. “I--yes,” he says.

There is the sound of rustling sheets from Thor’s end, and then a woman’s voice, thick with sleep. Loki feels every muscle in his body go tight. “Are you planning on tell me what,” Thor says, and now there’s amusement coloring his voice. “Or had you planned on breathing at me all night.”

Loki’s mind takes that phrase and turns it into something far more meaningful than Thor intends, until he’s glaring down at his erection and cursing the day his body decided Thor was exactly what he needed. “You are not with your friends,” he says instead.

There’s a pause; Loki get’s the distinct impression that Thor is laughing at him. “No,” he says. “I am visiting...someone.”

Loki’s heart thumps. “That woman,” he says sharply. “I should have known. Am I interrupting something, brother?”

Thor sighs, deep and heavy. There’s the sound of his footsteps and then the slide of a door. “You of all people should know very well why I cannot,” he says.

Loki pauses. “I,” he says again, feeling distinctly out of place. “Actually, yes,” he admits in a rush. “Thor, brother--”

Before he can finish his sentence, there’s the sound of the door again, and that woman’s voice saying, “Thor? Sorry, it’s Tony? Says he’s had a breakthrough on those murders--he keeps muttering something about an incubus? Anyway, I think you’re needed--”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Jane,” Thor says, at which point Loki hangs up.

He glances back over to his right, sighs, and texts Thor the hotel name and room number before vanishing in a flash of green. If Midgard is incapable of providing him with bed partners suitable to his needs, then he shall have to see about the other realms.

\--

Several weeks later, sore, exhausted, and not at all satisfied, he limps his way out of Jotunheim and manages to teleport himself into Thor’s room. Thor is not there at the moment, but Loki is, at this point beyond caring, so he drags himself to the bed, sheds his armor with a quick spell, and falls face first onto it.

He doesn’t bother raising Odin’s old glamour, choosing instead to bury himself into the mess of pillows and blankets that is Thor’s bed, blue as the day he was born. The bed feels as marvelous as Thor’s did back at home, deep cushiony, and he’s instantly on the edge of sleep. He ends up curled with one arm around one pillow, and if he throws a leg over it and inhales deeply, no one is there to see him.

Thor is loud when he returns. He swings the door open and lets Mjolnir thud against the floor, all the while conversing with his friends.

“Pretty sure that’s not how physics _work_ , buddy,” Tony Stark is saying when Loki manages to blearily open an eye and look at them.

“Mm,” he mumbles. “Hello, Thor.” He shifts somewhat so that he’s less cocooned and yawns up at the rest of the Avengers, who gape at him from around Thor. “And friends,” Loki adds, swallowing another yawn.

Stark makes a horrified sputtering noise, and Loki throws a smirk in his direction. The man balks, muttering something under his breath and very quickly stepping even farther out of the room until he backs into the Captain. Of all the Avengers, only Natasha Romanov looks unphased. The others shuffle, uncertain, in the doorway.

Thor, by contrast, just grins brightly. “Brother,” he says. Loki wants very much to roll his eyes.

He settles for stretching a bit until his back pops. The move pushes the blankets further down his chest, but he can’t be bothered with propriety. The air doesn’t feel as cold as he’d expected anyway.

Stark’s eyes flick down the expanse of skin revealed; Thor’s smile dims, and he lets the door slam in the man’s face.

“Oh my god,” Stark’s voice comes through the door, before there is the sound of someone grabbing him and hauling him away from the door.

“Thor?” Romanov calls through the door. “Everything okay?”

Thor is silent for a moment, and Loki arches a brow.

“I--yes,” Thor calls over his shoulder, shaking once, before continuing to grin brightly at Loki, if a little sheepish. “You shall have to forgive my friends, brother,” he says. “I do not think they have ever seen a frost giant.” 

Loki stares back at him blankly. “When will they ever?” he says slowly, frowning.

Thor gives him a long look. “You are blue,” he says finally. He reaches out and strokes along Loki’s cheekbone. The touch is warm--warmer than Loki’d expected--and his lips twitch in spite himself. “Did you not know?”

“Oh,” Loki says. He’d forgotten that the world was not usually this red. He shrugs his way out of the cocoon of blankets he’s made of Thor’s bed. “I mean yes. That’s to be expected. I hardly could expect that any frost giant would want to mate with an Asgardian, let alone me.”

Thor stares at him for a moment. “What?” he says, somehow managing to encompass both disapproval and confusion into his voice.

Loki almost finds pleasing, but instead of pursuing it, he says, “how have you been, Thor.” He settles back against Thor’s bed, and yawns.

“Fine.” Thor’s voice sounds a bit strained. Loki hides a grin.

“Did you get my message?” he says.

Thor comes to sit beside him on the bed. “I do not understand your intentions,” he says. “What was the point of it?”

Loki snorts. “And here I was thinking that you’d grown up,” he says. “But that’s not important.” He gives Thor’s chest plate a once over, before magicing it away; he can’t be bothered to check where.

Thor narrows his eyes at him. “It is very important,” he says. “Loki, those people had families.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “As did the other humans I’ve killed,” he points out. “What makes these eleven different?”

Thor throws him a look when Loki continues to remove his clothing with flicks of his fingers, and folds his arms over his chest. “You told me this time. You had me be the one to find him.” Thor scowls at him, ripping his own vambraces off before Loki can so much as look at him. “I thought--” Thor breaks off, flushing, and refuses to meet Loki’s eyes.

Loki very quickly rethinks his actions those months ago. His eyes widen. “You thought--” he breaks off. “By the nine, Thor--” He snickers a little, before he gives up completely, flopping back against Thor’s bed and laughing.

Thor takes a hold of one end of his blanket cocoon and hauls it away from him angrily, leaving Loki’s legs bare to the cold air. “I’m glad you find my feelings so amusing,” Thor snaps.

Loki’s laughter leaves as quickly as it came. “Thor,” he says slowly, reaching out to touch his shoulder hesitantly. Thor flinches away from his touch, but lets him after a moment. “Do you remember the conversation we were having that night?”

Thor rolls to face him. The action puts their noses a hair’s breadth apart, and Loki goes a bit cross-eyed trying to unravel the expression in Thor’s eyes. “Yes,” Thor says slowly. “But what does that have to do with--” He stops, suddenly. “No,” he says, realization coloring his tone. “Loki...”

Loki rolls onto his back so he doesn’t have to look at him.

“That is--” Thor starts to say before Loki rolls so that he is staring at him again with one eyebrow arched. “--unfortunate.”

Loki regards him for a moment more. “To put it lightly,” he says. “Jotunheim was no better,” he adds, tracing a line across Thor’s bare shoulder with his finger tips. “Rather the opposite, actually,” he muses. He gives Thor a weak smile. “I feel much worse having been on the receiving end of things. You should be pleased; perhaps this means I’m changing.”

But instead of looking amused, Thor looks heated. Protective, as always, but almost possessive. It’s enough to make Loki’s breath catch. Jotunheim had certainly cured him of desire, but the acts themselves were too fraught with danger for him to get any sort of release from them. So it comes as a surprise that his body can even react to such looks. But then, that was Thor; always exceeding expectations.

“Why would I find pleasure in your pain?” Thor says.

Instead of answering, Loki weighs his options. He is no less wound tight than he was that night months ago, and from the way Thor’s talking, Loki senses a long, unnecessary discussion that ends with him growing bored and simply angering Thor into action. He’s much too tired for any of that, so instead he rolls himself up and over so that he is straddling Thor, and looks down at him for a long moment. “Brother,” he says, and then considering, “Thor.”

Thor looks back up at him, flushed a bit, but his hands have come to rest on Loki’s hips. “Loki,” he returns. He appears to be unmoved by Loki’s weight settling against his thighs; there is no telltale creak of bone that tells Loki he either needs to roll them over or hurry.

Loki grins, wide and sharp. “I think we need to work on your Midgardian education; your mortal friends are obviously not doing a very good job of it.”

“I--brother, what--LoKI--”

Loki doesn’t loosen his grip on Thor’s cock, tightens his fingers just so and licks his lips. Thor’s eyes follow the movement with rabid interest. “Pleasure,” Loki says, stroking a few times and letting his fingers trail wetness in his wake. “Pain.” Sinking down onto his brother’s cock in one go is harder than he’d expected, but it’s worth it for the look on Thor’s face. “You see?”

Thor looks up at him, mouth falling open, for one beautiful moment, before he moves. His fingers tighten like vices on Loki’s hips and his mouth finds Loki’s in one quick action, abdominal muscles tightening and hips straining upwards. Loki finds himself half unseated in the motion, eyes snapping shut against the onslaught of _pleasurepain_ that it brings.

“ _Loki_ ,” Thor groans.

There is nothing remotely gentle or beautiful about their lovemaking, only the wonderful haze of whiteness creeping around the edges of Loki’s mind and Thor’s cock burning a hole in him.

Loki’s hands find themselves, somehow,  to the back of Thor’s neck, where he rakes his nails down hard. Thor shivers, back bowing marvelously, but the skin doesn’t break. Instead, Thor makes uses of his superior strength to pin Loki to the bed, nearly sliding all the way out in his haste. Loki whines, mindless with pleasure, but no manner of twisting or scratching is enough to free him.

Thor is, as always, all consuming till the very end. “Loki,” he whispers again, reverent. His thrusts has slowed somewhat, enough so that Loki’s eyes snap open and his lips open in a small ‘o.’ When he does so, he finds that the world is awash in red. “Oh,” he says, surprised.

“I like you like this,” says Thor. His mouth leaves Loki’s neck to trail kisses along the skin of his jaw, licking against the ridges and markings he finds there. “You taste different.”

Loki slams his head back against the pillows and groans. “You speak as if you’ve tasted me any other way,” he manages.

“That is not my fault,” Thor says from somewhere around Loki’s left nipple.

“No,” Loki sighs, meeting Thor’s eyes evenly. They’re entirely black with nothing more than a sliver of blue. Loki wonders what his own eyes look like, exactly.

“Red,” Thor says, leaning down to suckle a nipple between his lips. “Different from the others, though.”

Loki’s breath hisses out from between his teeth and he makes a broken noise. “Did I say that outloud?”

“Yes,” Thor says. He grinds his hips hard against the back of Loki’s thighs in a way that has him howling, hands scrabbling for any and all pieces of Thor that he can reach. “Did you not know?”

“I hate you,” Loki groans. “Don’t stop--don’t--stop--ah!”

Thor freezes for as long as it takes for Loki to realize that somewhere in the whitewash of pleasure he’d ended up drawing blood. “Oops,” he breathes, hips still flexing in search of more of that wonderful feeling.

Thor rolls his eyes, fond, and takes hold of Loki’s hands, dragging them up and over his head, where he pins them with one of his own. The other snakes down between their bodies to find Loki’s cock, and he thumbs the head once, smirking.

“Oh,” Loki says, blinking. Thor grins and does it again. “ _Oh_.”

Loki thinks, briefly, that maybe he can last, but then Thor starts moving in earnest, and that too is lost in the curl of Thor’s hand and the heat of his cock; Loki finds Thor’s mouth with his own with seconds to spare before he’s coming in one, drawn out scream.

He comes back to himself draped against the smooth planes of Thor’s chest, Thor’s fingers stroking through his hair. “Feel better?”

Loki smacks him.

Thor loses himself in laughter, the kind that Loki can’t help but grin at, before the door to the room slams open and the Avengers all rush in in full costume.

Stark is the first person to recover. “Okay pay up,” he says, sticking a hand out towards his fellow teammates. “I called it. I totally called it. Loki is in fact an incubus.”

Loki takes in the mix of horrified, confused, resigned, and shocked face, leans up on his elbows to press a quick kiss to Thor’s lips, and leaves him to deal with the aftermath.

\--

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Do not ask me the title of the Marvel character book from which I learned that Thor and Loki weigh 500 or so pounds. Just know that it exists.


End file.
